De Capo Al Fine
by Lea Woods
Summary: Chapter 2, Mysterioso Colla Parte: The military can change a man, even one so set in his ways as Percy Weasley. Some things don’t change, however. Like a serious dislike of mud.
1. Adagio

Title: De Capo Al Fine, "Adagio" (part 1)  
Author: Lea ( enyaleayahoo.com )  
Disclaimer: I don't own the lovelies, but I do own the plot.  
Everything else (with the exception of a few noted characters) is copyright J.K Rowling and her publishers, etc, etc, etc...  
Rating: PG right now, will be higher later on.  
Summary: Through a bit of chance, Percy realizes that life is not nearly as illustrious as he expected it to be; nor are his illustrious employers as aloof and inhuman as they seem. Books, as Percy knows so well, cannot be judged by their covers- he has yet to learn that the same applies to people.  
Feedback: Always welcome.  
Notes: 'lo. Delurking to post a fic. It's my birthday (or at least it was on the 8th when I tried posting this the first time), and I figured I would share the love- or at least, a prelude to it. grin All the same, hope you enjoy. This is the first of several movements, which should be posted every Thursday, or thereabouts.

Lea

_Adagio_

Percy sighed, throwing yet another file into his out box. He glanced at the clock on his wall and groaned. It was only three, and he had finished his entire workload for the day. Sometimes efficiency was a living hell. This meant that today, like nearly every other day that week, he would be Fudge's shadow.

As much as he hated to admit it, life at the ministry was far more boring than he had expected- his father had more to do than Percy did, and Percy was only two steps down from the very top of Ministry hierarchy. Slow, was the best way he could think to describe it.

He supposed he could rearrange his desk again, or even re-catalog his filing cabinets. But no, he had done both of those tasks the day before. His office was spotless. Nothing needed cleaning or rearranging...there would be no putting it off this time.

"Weasley, good, you're here," Fudge caroled, suddenly appearing in Percy's doorway.

Percy stifled a groan. "Minister," he replied, smiling and standing respectfully. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"It's more a question of what I want you to do."

Percy blinked. "Sir? I'm afraid I don't understand..."

Fudge moved inside and slid into the chair across the desk from Percy. "How long have you been working here, Weasley?"

"For you, sir, two years, for the ministry almost four."

"And in that time, how many projects have you been seriously assigned?"

"Sir?"

Fudge smiled. "Calm down, Weasley. I'm not firing you."

Percy noticeably relaxed. "I'm afraid I still don't follow your reasoning, sir."

"I'm assigning you to a case, Weasley. A rather sensitive one. You've proved your mettle as a secretary, a figurehead- now it's time to see how you work in the field."

"The field, sir," Percy repeated slowly.

"Mmm," Fudge nodded. "Look around you, Weasley- you've finished your day's work before nine, when most people are only getting started, and you've only been here for an hour and a half."

"Sir, I could simply be breezing through it, doing a poor job..." He trailed off at Fudge's disgusted look.

"According to my sources, Weasley, you've never done half a job and left it at that in your entire life.

"But-"

Fudge held up a hand. "And I have very reliable sources, Weasley."

A picture of his mother ran through Percy's mind, and he couldn't help but blush a bit. "So what did you have in mind, Minister?"

"A mark has been placed on a girl you went to school with- your old girlfriend, I believe. We think you'd be the ideal person to place as her watcher' as it were."

"Penelope Clearwater, sir?"

Fudge nodded. Percy couldn't help but feel that Fudge was putting him on- whoever heard of the Minister of Magic broadcasting new agent assignments where anyone could overhear them?

"What exactly is a watcher', sir?"

Fudge shot him an exasperated look. "How can you be so brilliant and so stupid at the same time, Weasley?"

"Um...just lucky, I suppose, sir."

"Well, Weasley, be that as it may, you will find all that out in due course," Fudge stood and placed a business card in Percy's inbox. "Contact these people, they will set up an appointment to meet with you as soon as is convenient." From the look Fudge shot him, Percy got the impression that the Minister expected it to be immediately convenient, at least on his end.

And then Fudge was gone, before Percy could say a word. Although at that point in time he wasn't sure if he wanted to say thank you, or that Fudge could go to hell and take his presumptions with him.

He settled on silence, procuring the card from his tray and drafting a note to the name he found therein. Once that much was done, he headed for the communications department, hoping they had a free owl. He left Hermes at home, rather than bring him to work and have everyone in the department running him ragged.

"Hello, Percy, what do you need?" Lindsay, an unusually pretty blonde witch, greeted him. She had the rather amusing habit of flirting with Percy every time he stepped into the Communications office. Whereas he was lucky if any other female in the building acknowledged his existence.

He smiled wryly. "Hello, Lindsay. I need an owl, if you can spare one."

"Of course," She smiled, jotting his request down on a notepad, tearing off the order, and handing it to a waiting intern. "So,

Percy," She leaned forward over the desk, giving the impression of

an intimate conversation in the making. "I was thinking, I have

reservations at a restaurant tonight- Thai food. I was wondering if perhaps you'd like to come? Purely casual of course…" she trailed off significantly, raising her eyebrows.

"Scuse me, Linds- Percy, I have that owl for you."

Percy could have kissed the intern. "Thank you, Adam," The intern winked as he walked away. Lindsay was notoriously randy, and it seemed that perhaps Percy had found a savior in the enemy's camp.

He made a show of attaching his note to the owl's leg, telling the white-faced Barn owl the address before handing him back to Lindsay.

"So what say you?"

Percy bit his lip, running the offer through his mind. On the one hand, he knew that once Lindsay got her tenterhooks in him, he'd be lucky if she ever let go. On the other, if he didn't go, he'd just be sitting at home reading with his owl and his cat for company, as he had done nearly every night before. Oh, what the hell, he'd go and damn the consequences.

"All right. When and where?"

The look on Lindsay's face was rather like a stunned cat- somewhere between blank and so surprised couldn't speak. "Oh, well, it's the Garden, that new place on the edge of Diagon Alley. Is six-thirty all right with you?"

"Yes, that's fine," He had shopping to do, anyway. "I'll see you there, then." And he turned and strode out the door, leaving Lindsay completely off-balance and looking it. Sometimes it was fun to scare the hell out of people.

Percy sipped at his wine gingerly, smiling at Lindsay. "This is really quite nice," he offered quietly. She smiled back mutely, poking at her pad Thai with a fork. The table lapsed once more into silence.

"Percy," She murmured finally.

"Hmm?"

"This is completely forced isn't it?" She smiled at him warmly, setting her fork down. "You've got something on your mind."

"How can you tell?"

She laughed, picking up her own wineglass. "Percy, I've been after you for nearly a year. You think my surveillance is restricted to the Communications office? I've watched you, Percy. I probably know how to read you better than members of your family."

Percy had to smile at that. "True."

"So what is it?"

"You truly want to know?" He searched Lindsay's face as she nodded. "My job, if you want the truth."

"What do you mean? Your job is more secure than anyone else's is- including the Minister position itself."

"Not so much that," Percy sighed. "Working at the ministry is nothing like what I envisioned."

"It never is," she offered. "You think I dreamed of working in the Communications department? I'm a glorified secretary, Percy- I send owls all day long. If something happens- and it hardly ever does- I write the press release. That is the long and short of my job."

Percy digested this before he responded. "But you're a department head," Lindsay snorted. "All right, I see your point."

"What was your point?"

"I'm not doing anything. I joined the ministry to do things, not sit around writing reports about doing things, talking about it, and spending my spare time imagining it. I thought if I was going to be part of something important. Instead I write reports on universalizing the thickness of cauldron bottoms that no person will ever read or otherwise pay attention to," he concluded bitterly.

"But you were a judge at the Triwizard tournament- that has to hold that you have some modicum of authority."

"Authority isn't the point. The point is accomplishing something for the greater good, not just for the good of Fudge's filing cabinets." Lindsay chuckled and Percy smiled ruefully. "I'm not living up to my potential," he explained, spreading his hands in an image of defeat.

Lindsay studied him carefully, running the tip of her finger around the edge of her wineglass. "And who set these standards that you try so ardently to live up to? Who told you what, exactly, your potential was?"

Percy started then stared, not quite sure how to respond. "Well," he faltered, thinking. "I...I suppose I did."

A grin broke out across Lindsay's face. "You will do, Mr. Weasley. You will do quite well."

"Excuse me?"

"Here," Lindsay handed him a card as she stood. Percy instinctively leapt to his feet, although he was still bewildered as to what had just happened. Lindsay smiled. "You passed the first test, Percy."

"Test," he repeated numbly.

"Yes, test. Now, someone will be by your flat in the morning to explain a few things. In the meantime, sit down and finish that pad Thai you ordered, it's already been paid for. You're going to need the strength," She smiled again and patted his shoulder. "Good night, Percy. And good luck."

"Thank you," he replied as she walked away. He sat down again, not quite sure what had just happened, but sure that after that meal, nothing in his life was going to be the same.

_End part I._


	2. Mysterioso Colla Parte

Title: De Capo al Fine, "Mysterioso Colla Parte (2/8)"

Author: Lea Woods

Pairing: Percy Weasley/ Oliver Wood

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Alludes to Percy's relationship with his family, Bill's marital status…things from OotP on. 

Disclaimer: The characters contained herein aren't mine, though the premise of the piece is. It is in no way intended for monetary gain, on entertainment purposes. Characters and Hogwarts are copyright J.K. Rowling and her respective publishers.

Warnings: pre-pre-slash; kind of dark. Definitely not a fluffy/happy story. Will get darker & slashier as time passes.

Summary: The military can change a man, even one so set in his ways as Percy Weasley. Some things don't change, however. Like a serious dislike of mud.

Author's Notes: Sincere apologies for the long wait. FB appreciated though not required (translation: Please review if you have the time!). Next part up sooner.

_Mysterioso Colla Parte_

It was raining. No, that wasn't quite accurate, is was somewhere between a torrential downpour and a monsoon. So…it was…raining. Just short of a flood, really. The cold, bitter sort of rain that struck your back like a thousand needles propelled by all the bad thoughts of your adversaries. The sort that soaked into your skin and chilled you so completely that it took days to get warm again. It did that a lot, he had discovered. He sighed as he looked out from his temporary sanctuary into the flowing sheets of moisture. In three years, Percy had come to loathe precipitation in any form.

He had been from one end of England to the other. To Ireland, Scotland, Wales…from the northernmost tip of Scandinavia to the lowest point of Africa, and everywhere he went, from ice to savanna there was mud. If there was anything he hated more than precipitation, it was mud. It got everywhere; caked in equipment, covered every inch of available skin, got into places a person didn't even know they had until they found mud there. It was a lot like sand. But sticky. Talk about something that got everywhere.

"Major?"

Percy swung around and looked at the equally travel-stained sergeant waiting behind him. "Yes?"

"What exactly are we waiting for?"

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Are you questioning my orders, Lanval?"

"Of course not, sir, I just..." he trailed off. "We've been sitting here for hours."

"I'm well aware of that. We wait a little longer."

"Sir," the younger officer sighed, leaning back into the darkness of the lean-to.

Percy smiled a little as he turned away from his comrade. Sergeant Jason Lanval was a new recruit, fresh from a school in America. He was greener than fresh-cut wood, and Percy was enjoying…._seasoning_ him. He was sure the aurors who had broken him in had taken the same sort of self-serving pleasure from the experience. The mission they were finishing at the time wasn't particularly difficult, or he would have been far tenser. In fact, most times, Percy would have reprimanded a younger officer for making so much noise while under cover. In his three years, though, Percy had grown up a lot.

Three years ago, he had been what was referred to in American dime novels as, "bright-eyed and bushy-tailed". He had been educated but woefully innocent. The day after his dinner with Lindsey, everything had changed.

As she had promised, the next morning a man in a suit and a pair of sunglasses had arrived at his flat and proceeded to relate to him the particulars about the program he was being recruited for. It seemed like a cross between the American Secret Service, the Navy SEALS and something from the X-Men comics. So bored was he with his job, though, that he had agreed almost immediately.

After six months of grueling training (ironically, where Percy had gotten his severe dislike of mud), he had been thrown into the field under the command of none other than Nymphadora Tonks. He had liked Tonks, but then she had gone off on some covert operation in Morocco with half of the rest of the Order, and Percy had been promoted to Lieutenant. After an afternoon of tailing Penny (which actually _had_ been his real assignment), his CO, a wizard from Germany called Hans, told him to take a break. That he'd watch the mark for 30 while he went and ate something. Reluctantly, Percy had agreed. He was coming back when there was an explosion. Back at headquarters, covered in grime as he was, he was promoted again. Captain Weasley, now.

Things like that kept happening. That's the way wars worked, he supposed. People kept dying, he kept being promoted. Some of the men in his unit predicted that by the end of a seven-year tour he'd be a ranking general. They were joking, of course, but every time he heard it his heart sank a little more.

With Penny out of the picture they had moved Percy off of the bodyguard circuit and into covert ops. They did reconnaissance mostly, but occasionally removal as well. This was one of those times. He looked back at the men behind him. The twelve wizards were all Ron's age or a little younger. When he looked into their eyes, he almost saw Ron or Harry looking back out at him.

Lanval was the newest, only added to the troupe a week before. One man, Wilkins, had been with Percy since he was made Lieutenant. The only man besides him to survive the blast that killed Penny and Hans. Wilkins was from Wales and was as redheaded and pale-skinned as any of Percy's relations. They had shared a bunk the few times their squad had stayed in barracks. He studied the others for a moment. Half the time he struggled to remember some of their names. The bitter part of his mind said that they would either be transferred out or dead before too long, so it was a waste of time to remember their names. The other part of him recoiled at that. So he tried to remember their names. If only to keep from looking in the mirror one day and not recognizing himself.

Percy turned back to the downpour just in time to see a flash of light then a huge cloud of smoke rise over the building they were shadowing. "Right. There's the signal. Let's go."

With all the stealth of a pack of foxes approaching a henhouse, the squad slid out from their temporary shelter and into the watery dusk like shadows across snow. Seconds later, they disappeared inside the building, Percy in the lead.

---

"Well done, Weasley," called a man in camouflage as Percy stalked past three days later. They were back at HQ and much good it did them. It was still raining, still muddy. Percy nodded at him, but kept walking.

He didn't stop walking until he reached a door marked "General Jordan". Percy knocked and, hearing a muffled reply, opened the door. "Sir?" He asked, stepping inside and shutting the door softly behind him. "You wanted to see me?"

A tall black man with close-cropped hair looked up from a stack of papers and smiled. "Yes, I did." He stood and shook Percy's hand. "Your unit did very well out there, Weasley."

"Thank you, sir."

"Please," he gestured at the chair across from him. Percy sat, studying General Kai Jordan with interest. His youngest brother Lee was the twins' best friend at Hogwarts, though Kai had graduated several years before Bill. He had the same dark eyes as Lee, though the mischievous sparkle was muted in his gaze.

"Please don't say I'm being promoted again."

Kai laughed. "No, you're not being promoted again." Percy sighed a little with relief. "I just wanted to talk to you a little, see how you were doing."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "With all due respect, sir, you're the Commanding Officer in charge of domestic affairs. Surely you have more important things to do than to check up on fairly junior officers."

"Normally, that would be true," Kai conceded, leaning back in his chair. "But there are some extenuating circumstances. Most of my officers can tell their families what they're doing for a living. Most of my officers, however junior, have at least one person they can fall back on for support, for comfort, even for love."

Percy felt his ears burning and didn't respond right away. "All the same…"

"Lee wanted me to check, Percy," Kai said quietly. "He says the twins are worried. They act tough, like they hate you,"

"And do a fair impression," Percy muttered.

Kai smiled crookedly. "But Lee insists they really are worried about you."

"Their shop is doing well," he said quietly, skirting the subject a little. "I went in a few weeks ago…disguised of course, because considering how they reacted last time they saw me, I didn't think it prudent to come waltzing in as myself. It was packed. I could hardly move able and they were dashing from one end to the other, filling order and helping customers . It was nice to watch."

"And your other siblings?"

Percy sighed. "Nothing. Ron's practically disowned me, not that it much matters. He and Harry and Hermione are so busy in the Order that I'm surprised he can think of much else."

"Charlie?"

"In Romania."

"Bill?"

Percy shrugged. "I think he and Fleur are still in France, trying to muster the resistance there, but I couldn't tell you."

"And Ginny?"

Percy smiled, but it wasn't a pleased smile. It was half-pained. "Ginny. She's…would you believe that I don't know? Dad and Mum still won't speak to me, and Ginny…last I heard she was going to take over Bill's old job at Gringotts in Egypt, but I could be wrong. She could be wrestling mermen for all I know."

Kai stifled a laugh at the image. It really wasn't funny. "I could find out for you."

Percy shook his head. "No thank you, sir." He stood to go. "This is something I have to take care of myself. Is there anything else sir?"

The General sighed, exasperated but shook his head. "No. Good work on that last mission, Weasley."

"Thank you, sir."

"Dismissed."

"Sir." Percy saluted, then left.

Safe in the hallway, Percy let his head droop for a second, images of the last confrontation with his family running through his mind like wildfire. He shook his head to clear it, then made his way back to the bunkroom, nodding at people he knew in the hallway.

When he opened the door, he was met with questioning looks and even a few spoken ones. He smiled, for real this time, at his squad. "Three days on Liberty. Have fun but don't do anything illegal." His men cheered as Percy went to his footlocker and rummaged around for a book. After a moment of thought, he changed into civilian clothes and tucked his glasses into a pocket. He turned to go, but stopped. Lanval was still lying out on his bunk, staring at the springs of the bed above him.

Percy took a seat on the chair next to him. "What's up, sergeant?"

Lanval glanced at him, then smiled a little. "Nothing, sir."

"Lanval." The boy looked at him. "Don't lie to me."

"I've never seen anything like that before, sir. So much blood…it was everywhere. I could feel the despair in the room. It was like the walls were closing in on me. I couldn't breathe."

"We got the family out," Percy said quietly. "That was the important thing."

"But how many people did we have to kill to do it?"

Percy bit his lip. He found himself asking the same question a lot and could never come up with a good answer. "Wars aren't logical, Lanval. It's in their nature. It's lots of killing and pointless bloodshed for reasons political or economical or no reason whatsoever."

"So why do you fight?" The younger man stared at him intently.

Percy looked up and out the window on the opposite wall. "Because I believe in what we're fighting for. Because I have to fight or I'd go crazy. The other side…I've seen what they can do. You were only a baby the first time around, but I remember it. The night raids, the terror…I've never seen anything quite like it. I promised myself I wouldn't let it happen again if I could do anything about it, that I wouldn't let someone else do the fighting for me."

"Sir?"

Percy looked down, his eyes focusing on the soldier next to him. "I fight because I believe we all deserve the opportunity to live free, Lanval. Because the ones who fight for the Dark Lord want to take that away, and I won't let them do that to me or to anyone I love. Does that answer your question?" He nodded. Percy smiled a little and stood, pulling on his coat. "Don't stay in here too long, Lanval. Thinking is good, but it can consume you. You're too young to fade that way."

"Are you ever scared, Major?"

Percy paused in the door to the bunkroom, silent for a second. "All the time," he replied. "But I wouldn't be human if I wasn't."

---

He was walking quickly down the hallway, mind lingering a second on the conversation he had just had with Lanval, then shifting to which nearby café he would seek first. One of the unfortunate hazards of living somewhere for any extended period of time is that when one walks through the halls, one's mind goes on auto-pilot however briefly, which is why, for the first time in his (brief) military career, ran into someone.

Thankfully, he wasn't as slight as he had been in school, so he didn't fall, but he did stagger back several steps. He shook his head a little to clear it, apologizing as he did so. "I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was –"

"Percy? Percy Weasley?"

His eyes focused on the man he had run into. Tall, burly…russet-haired, brilliant grin and sparkling brown eyes. If he wasn't still a little stunned from the impact, he still would have been shocked to see this individual in that particular hallway.

"Hello, Oliver."

_End Part II_


End file.
